


Help me, save me and I beg you to love me.

by psych0oo



Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Help ;-;, Junhoe and Jungkook are friendship goals, Light Angst, M/M, hopefully?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psych0oo/pseuds/psych0oo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Jiwon left without a word. Luckily, Junhoe have a friend who (tries) to help him to get over his ex-boyfriend. Though, with little to no improvement. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help me, save me and I beg you to love me.

**Author's Note:**

> This is me giving this ship an angst shot, because... Why the hell not?
> 
> Be right back. I hope I'll survive.

 

x (Madhouse.)  
  
Tonight is the worst by far.  
  
Winter is approaching and Junhoe might just freeze to death. His heater broke down earlier in the month and he has not gotten it fixed. Jiwon always got it covered, but guess who is not here anymore?  
  
Junhoe curls up in his bed, blanket thrown over his body, haphazardly. The curtains are pulled back from the huge arched windows that catches sunlight in morning and moonlight at night. His king-sized bed is nestled right by the clear casement and a nightstand. The bed and nightstand was a beautiful rosewood set that Jiwon, supposedly his boyfriend, bought for him as a housewarming gift because he thought it would be perfect for his room.  
  
"Now you will think of me every night before you sleep." He remembers Jiwon making this remark. Junhoe scoffs, sardonically. His boyfriend is fucking selfish, that is for sure. It pledges Junhoe into thinking that Jiwon has all these planned out, just so he could abandon him and disappear into thin air, like their relationship does not exist. Being a sadistic human being he is, he gives Junhoe constant reminders of him walking out on the other boy, like Junhoe does not exist. In some sense, he is chaining Junhoe to him. No matter how Junhoe struggles to get out, he can't. Kim Jiwon wouldn't allow it.  
  
Whenever Junhoe was not busying himself to a point of collapsing, Jiwon would make his way down the red carpet into his head, wide smiles that burns bright and sometimes, Junhoe could hear Jiwon says, "Are you eating properly? Are you having enough sleep? God, don't make me worry. It makes it harder for me to leave you alone."

Junhoe might be suffering from auditory hallucinations, who knows.  
  
Whenever Junhoe was busying himself to a point of collapsing, Jiwon would manage to sneak into his head and make his way down on the same freaking red carpet like he owned it, wide smiles that burns everything on it's path, until nothing was left and sometimes, Junhoe could hear Jiwon says, "Are you eating properly? Are you having enough sleep? God, don't make me worry. It makes it harder for me to leave you alone. _But harder does not mean I can't nor I won't do it._ "  
  
Junhoe's scrunches the side of the blanket to his chest and holds it there. Through fabrics, he dig fingernails into his palms. The sharp prickly pain keeps him grounded as he even out his breathing.  
  
He is not crying tonight. He don't want to.  
  
In a shaky intake of air, he fill his lungs with air and sorrow. His eyes are stinging and he has to engulf a sob that is slipping pass his lips. Another for sure is that he is fighting a losing battle.  
  
_He is so fucking weak._  
  
Junhoe sinks his teeth into his chapped bottom lips, refusing to let one more wail escapes. He must not have been pressing them down hard enough, because he emits yet another sob. It aquaplanes through tiny cracks between his teeth. And so, doing the most logical thing, he clamps into the now swelling flesh more unyieldingly, until it bleeds, until he feels a rush, until he drowns.  
  
Until he drowns in a pool of his tears.  
  
Pathetic, isn't it?  
  
Junhoe is still longing for Jiwon even after five months of not keeping in touch.  
  
His nails dig deeper, deeper and deeper into his palms, until his knuckles turn white. He shudders from both resisting the urge to bawl his my eyes out and the decreasing temperature in his room.  
  
Junhoe hiccups when the third wave of despair courses through his entire body, inundating him in one mouth and after a few good chews, spitting out all his bones. However, Junhoe feels otherwise. Like any other night, he feels like a heap of boneless mass.  
  
Gloom-ridden, Junhoe rolls onto his side, eyes upon the vault of heaven. It is in a stunning shade of azure and lapis. The sky has a graveyard full of stars, beautiful yet tragic. Junhoe's black hair fans out over the pillow even as he shifts. The stars hang high, twinkling. Just like Junhoe's glassy eyes that are wet from tears. Want and need ripples through Junhoe and he is ready to crumble. And just like that, he gives up. Tears roll down his rosy cheeks.  
  
He cries until his throat went dry.  
  
He cries until he chokes.  
  
He cries until he can't breathe.  
  
And for the grand finale, he cries until history repeats itself.  
  
Junhoe picks up his phone and presses one to speed dial Jiwon. That same annoying voicemail greets him, _"Hello, Bobby here! Currently busy, do call back later!"_ Fucking shit.  
  
He unclenches one of his hands, only to bear down on his lids. He misses Jiwon so much, that hearing his voice is no longer sufficient. He can hear his heart pounds and it pains him. "Missing you comes in waves, hyung. And tonight," Junhoe wheezes. "I'm drowning."  
  
He speaks slow, out of breath, "Bastard."  
  
Junhoe forces his lethargic body into a jackknife position, phone still pressing against his ear as he pushes the glass panels of his window open. A swish of fresh air washes over his slumped shoulders. He feels colder and ever-so-alone.  
  
"Goodnight, hyung." Only then, the sharp pain in his chest subsides into a dull, tasteless one. "I'll call you tomorrow."  
  
Jiwon probably don't miss him as much or at all, because he does not return any of the missed calls. Jiwon probably don't love him anymore or truly, because he does not return to the younger boy's side.  
  
Junhoe tosses his phone somewhere on the bed. The strong gust of wind is unforgiving as they bites into his skin. The bitterly cold seeps into Junhoe's bones, yet, the anger, the flames, in him is still flickering brightly, is still scorching hot.  
  
Junhoe grabs the cup of chamomile tea on his nightstand and brings it to his lips. Drinking tea is supposed to help him sleep better. (Keyword: Supposed.) A habit he picked up months ago, when Jiwon left him. It has gone cold. Junhoe wishes that he can go cold on this relationship too. The blanket pools around his waist, doing nothing but a dire job in keeping him warm. His left knee hurts. Junhoe sets the cup aside and grabs a bottle of medical oil next. He pour it into his hands, warm it between his fingers and gently massages into his knee, until the pain has lessen.  
  
In the past, Jiwon was the one who would always take care of Junhoe's knee whenever it started acting up.  
  
Junhoe exiles a sigh, heavy in content.  
  
He is disappointed with himself, because he does not understand the reasons behind to why he is still pining after Jiwon. He break into pieces every night, he gather the pieces every morning and the cycle goes on. It is eating Junhoe alive. Day by day, Junhoe looks older. Dark circles and grandpa frown speaks volume. It is mentally exhausting.  
  
Junhoe wishes that he is courageous enough to bid a "goodbye" instead of "goodnight".  
  
In the future, someday, one day. That is just not today.  
  
Then something shatters. The barbed edges cut his insides.  
  
Junhoe is laughing crazily with a face full of tears.  
  
_Look at you,_ it coos, making itself comfortable on Junhoe's shoulders. _Poor thing._  
  
The laughter that erupts is dark, neurotic and empty.  
  
Junhoe falls back onto his bed, clenching his stomach with a hand and laughs uncontrollably until he is out of air, despite tears that are streaming a pathway down the curves of his cheeks and into his pillow.  
  
Falling in love is the best feeling, therefore, in contrast, falling out of love is the worst feeling.

The thing is, Junhoe has never ever fallen out of love with Jiwon before. And that hurts so much more.  
  
Slow death. It is what it feels like.  
  
_You've brought this upon yourself,_ it crows.  
  
Junhoe bursts out laughing once more, disregarding the condition of his throat, acknowledging enthusiastically, "I agree. I do, I do."  
  
The silence is deafening, but it is obviously not enough to mute the negativity blossoming in Junhoe.  
  
He does not agree at all, because Jiwon is the best thing that happened to him. He wants to leave things that way, to only bear sweet memories whatever he thought of this broken relationship, but he can't.  
  
Waiting for Jiwon is strikingly alike to drawing the drought in California to a close.  
  
Junhoe is sick and tired of all these.  
  
He glares at the yellow soft toy at the cliff of his nightstand. It is taunting and mocking him. Nonetheless, Junhoe tucks it safely under covers with him, because Pooh smells like Jiwon, because Pooh smells like home.  
  
Junhoe figures, he will need more teas if he wants to look less like death in the morning.  
  
There is a warm buzzing in his stomach, knee and underneath his skin that prevents him from getting up. So, he lies there, hoping the cold will numb the aching in his chest.  
  
Junhoe's eyes somehow find it's way back to the night sky. He feels hollow. He is clear that he has become dependent on the one person that has left him.  
  
Junhoe bleats weakly, soundlessly, into his pillow, _I miss you._ His body is shaking violently with every breath he takes. _I miss you so bad._  
  
What and where went wrong?  
  
Junhoe palpitates when a surge of madness bubbles up his windpipe and breaks out into the cold autumn air. What did he do that resulted him in getting dumped? His chest rise and fall, but he does not feel like he is breathing, at all. He does not feel alive.  
  
When he hears his voice in the small confined area, he breaks fully. He holds nothing back and it easily reduces him into a mere lunatic with a face full of fresh tears. He tries his best to laugh it off, because everything is dumb. From the moment Jiwon asked him out to be his boyfriend to his sudden disappearance.  
  
It runs Junhoe ragged and of course, it is stupid.  
  
Kim Jiwon is the epitome of stupidity himself.  
  
However, he can't, because his tears just won't stop flowing. So, Junhoe lets his caustic laughter chimes louder and louder and louder.  
  
Until everything goes up in smoke and drowns him like how he wants to be drown.  
  
After hours of staring at the sky, he eventually falls asleep. His eyelids flutter shut as he soothes himself with a lullaby that he loves with Pooh safe in his arms. Sleep does butterfly kisses on top of his closed hazel orbs, till he is in dreamland. Only when he is unconscious, the suffering buffers. Sometimes, if Junhoe is lucky, he will dream of Jiwon. No no, he will not categorise this as a nightmare, especially when Jiwon is wearing Junhoe's favourite sunset smile that the younger boy misses so profoundly. Even if it is nothing more than what the brain makes up to be, he wants to see his boyfriend of three years.  
  
Despite the time on the digital clock jumping, the time in Junhoe's dimension freezes. He dreams of Jiwon and he hopes that he will never have to wake up to the harsh reality of the world he is living in.  
  
_Welcome back,_ he murmurs in his sleep. He giggles a while later, completely despondent.  
  
Junhoe loves Jiwon with all his heart. Yes, he might not be good at expressing himself, but that does not mean his love for Jiwon is of any less.  
  
Junhoe drags his exposed ankle under duvet.  
  
Dried tears, soft titters and terrible night. Junhoe dreams of that sweet sweet smile and it is safe to say, it is the highlight of his day. It is what he has been waiting for all day.  
  
That sweet honey smile.  
  
Junhoe's mouth forms one as well, smiling as pure as the driven snow while bathing in a tranquil river of silver moonlight.  
  
Even with parched cheeks, Goo Junhoe is beautiful.  
  
We are all a little broken on the inside. And it is what makes Junhoe more human, for Jiwon's ravishing angel takes form in a perfect being.

 

 

 

 

x (He is Jeon Jungkook; my all-in-one.)

He nuzzles his cheek deeper into his slightly dampened pillow. There is a hand carding through his hair and like an abandoned kitten that covets affection, he is ought to whine when those daft fingers leave his scalp.  
  
Then someone hauls him into a sitting position, running a warm palm down his spine a numerous of times to cajole him awake. A voice that is not Jiwon's swims in his head, "C'mon, sleepyhead. We have to go to work." Junhoe buries his nose into the other's collarbone, inhaling a scent that is different in all respects from his significant other, but it furnishes the same type of security he yearns. "Rough night?" The other person asks and Junhoe says nothing. He indulges in the cosy embrace some more, hands falling by the other boy's sides.  
  
"Good morning, Jungkookie." And the aforementioned boy hates how parched his best friend sounded.  
  
"Morning, June." He says, hands naturally racing a track up and down Junhoe's back.  
  
They stay that way for a while more.  
  
Junhoe always feel extremely at ease when his best friend is around, because he trusts the other boy to be there for him through his darkest hour. Obviously, Jungkook has proven himself. Junhoe can safely say, without Jungkook, there is no way he can wake up in one whole piece, free from blemishes.

Ironic, isn't it? His heart is only hanging on by a thread. It is all tender flesh and deep wounds and there is only so much Jungkook can shield him from.  
  
Junhoe chuckles, blandly.  
  
Jungkook does not smells like home. Not at all. However, Jungkook is like Junhoe's favourite grey hoodie; huge, worn-out and constantly enveloping Junhoe in a hug. Junhoe is not going to lie. It feels good to be babied, to be taken care of by his best friend. But if it is not with the right person-  
  
Junhoe feels like an asshole for saying this, but if it is not with the right person, no matter how wonderful the company is, Junhoe will not feel completed. Junhoe lacks a piece of puzzle and it is sad to say, Jeon Jungkook does not fit.  
  
Regardless, misfits or not, Junhoe is incredibly thankful towards Jungkook, because he sticks through thick and thin with him and really, who is Goo Junhoe to take things for granted?  
  
He does not tell Jungkook how unbearable last night was. Instead, he clings onto Jungkook lightly. "Are we having burnt toasts for breakfast again?"  
  
Jungkook bust a gut, immediately. It is hearty and so full of life; the exact opposite of Junhoe's. It makes Junhoe question himself about when can he laugh like that.  
  
The morning air is too dry, his eyes are burning, hence, Junhoe shuts them tight.   
  
"Don't complain- Scrambled eggs, toasts and orange juice is breakfast of a champion, don't you know?" Says Jungkook.  
  
"Burnt toasts." Junhoe corrects Jungkook, lifting up his head to pull off an unimpressed look. "And breakfast of a champion, you say? I'm sorry, come again?"  
  
Unwinding his arms around Junhoe, Jungkook stands up and begins walking away. "Hurry up! Jinhwan hyung will not be pleased with us being late for the umpteen times."  
  
"By _umpteen_ times," Junhoe air-quotes it, supplying sarcasm in both his actions and tone, berode picking up from where he left. "You actually mean four times, right?" He follows Jungkook out of his bedroom, nonetheless.  
  
"Yes, _four_ times," Jungkook air-quotes back. "Of this goddamn week!"  
  
"Make it five if we are late today too." He says.  
  
"Make it five then." Junhoe replies, tight-lipped.  
  
Jungkook keeps a straight face. He has expected nothing less from his best friend. Honestly. Ever since he was born into this world, he knows for a fact that his precious yet asshole friend has no time management or whatsoever. It is a given, since Junhoe is a spoilt brat and likes to do things his way.  
  
Jungkook drones quietly as he munches his piece of toast that is charred on one side. Both of them eats their breakfast slowly, unbothered that they _will be_ (reads: are) running late, after all, they do indeed have all the time in the world at the moment.  
  
It is always time like this Jungkook and Junhoe feels they are infinite. Almost as if god takes pity on them and blesses them a time, whereby everything has rewinded back to the old days. No consolations from Jungkook, no crippling sound of snivels from Junhoe. Just two best friends having breakfast together, occasionally lifting the mood with playful banters and it is as simple as that. Except the both of them are very well aware that this is not the case. Junhoe is barely keeping himself together and Jungkook is exhausted to his bones. But they are young, _too young,_  and stubborn, _too stubborn_ for this cruel world to accept things as they are, so they play blind and deaf while they still can. They pretend nothing is wrong. Yes, there is absolutely nothing wrong.  
  
"Jinhwan hyung will kill us later." Says Jungkook, cheeks round and overstuffed.  
  
"Jungkook, please," Junhoe dumps the rest of the so-called scrambled eggs onto Jungkook's plate. "Look at where we are right now? Does this place look like heaven to you?"  
  
Jungkook takes a minute to ponder. He feigns shock, eyes widening, "Oh, you're right! This place doesn't look like heaven." Then, his expression changes like a light switch into something mocking and sinister. The spawn of satan bellows, "That is because this place looked every bit like hell!"  
  
They ends up leaving a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, because when both parties are too engrossed in a debate, even falling short on breathe to deliver a retort might be one's downfall, thus, who gives a damn about dirty dishes?  
  
In the end, the two of them reported to work an hour late and their boss, Kim Jinhwan, smacks the back of their heads as a warning. Displeased, he is.  
  
Junhoe takes order after order at the counter. When noon comes in scorching rays, he is halfway walking back from hell.  
  
"Fucking morning rush." He mutters under his breath.  
  
The sound of bells jingling is really pleasant at first, however, if you have to hear it throughout your whole working hour, five days per week (sometimes four), you will start praying, "lord please save me." Most customers are robots; expressionless. A handful of customers are assholes; rude as fuck. Like the one Junhoe is dealing with right now.  
  
"Excuse me, I did say iced latte with less milk, no ice, didn't I?" The lady holds the takeaway cup to Junhoe, eyes glued on the screen of her phone.  
  
"Then you should have ordered a hot one in the first place." Junhoe replies in a tone full of boredom, not looking at the lady's face which is caked with makeup and Junhoe is pretty certain he can make her weeps with just a makeup wipe.  
  
Shocked, she snaps her head up, gaping like a fish out of water. Eventually, she settles with, "I wanted them cold!"  
  
Personally, Junhoe thinks people are dicks. Unless, you're Jungkook, close friends, family or the person he misses dearly, then maybe he will be more forgiving with his words. Also, time is priceless. He does not want to waste them on a mere stranger, much less. Hence, he lock eyes with the petite female in front of him. "Then a few pieces of ice shouldn't kill you."  
  
Furious, she slams the plastic cup on the counter. Her face is completely red and if this is an anime, there will probably be smokes coming out of her ears too. Junhoe smirks to further agitate her and _hell to the yes,_  he successfully do so.  
  
"I'm going to lodge a complaint about you!" She screams.  
  
"Goo Junhoe," He says. "You're gonna need my name when you fill in the form."  
  
The lady looks at him as if he is mental. She huffs dramatically, like the situation is outrageous and if Junhoe wants to burn her in the arse some more, he would have said, "The only thing that is ridiculous here is you." But he did not, because judging by the looks of it, it is very likely that she will faint (from anger) and to Junhoe, calling for ambulance is too much of a hassle. So, as she sends him one last glare and storms away, he smiles cockily.  
  
Before he can do a victory dance in his head, Jinhwan drags him away and ushers Jungkook to take his troublemaker of a friend's place.  
  
The smaller male cross his arms over his chest, staring pointedly at Junhoe.  
  
"Iced latte, no ice." Junhoe says.  
  
"So?" Jinhwan shoots back, tiredly.  
  
"Iced latte, NO ice." The younger male repeats, tiredly as well.  
  
"What about it?" Jinhwan demands.  
  
"There's some ice in hers." Junhoe is infamous for his nonchalant attitude towards everything and frankly speaking, Jinhwan likes his younger friend for that. He do whatever fuck he wants, no shit given. It is quite admirable, he has to admit. Though, for this matter, not so much.  
  
"Just make a new one for-"  
  
"Did she die though?" It is more of a mockery than question.  
  
In which Jinhwan sighs in resignation.  
  
"You stand here and make drinks; you're swapping task with Jungkook." Jinhwan says in finality, before advancing back to the kitchen.  
  
Junhoe groans out loud, outwardly forewarns people to be careful with their words or even actions around him, after all, he is not scared to tell them off. Also, if you add an annoyed Junhoe into the equation of hot beverages and a throng of people (a.k.a assholes), it can only spells danger. You can never know what will happen. (Actually, you can. It is totally predictable.) By any chance that someone's face begins to melt, Junhoe is not to be blamed. Accident happens.  
  
After making tons of drinks, some with absurd remarks, _no sugar, double milk, 5% of the fucking sugar,_ and with no mistakes, break time finally, _finally,_ rolls around the corner.  
  
Junhoe can see the close of escape. He can taste it.  
  
When a stunning boy with mint hair and an even more attractive boy with boxy grin simultaneously stumbles into the cafe, Junhoe nudges Jungkook with his elbow, "Let's go. I'm starting to feel sleepy already."  
  
The best friends clock out of their shift and strides to a off-limit booth for staffs only. Junhoe stops by the kitchen to retrieve two plates of club sandwiches, courtesy of Jinhwan, and cuts through the crowd. Jungkook's hands are on Junhoe's shoulders. He works out the knots underneath the skin and when he is done, Junhoe roll his shoulders a few times. Jungkook takes it he did a great job, so, he scoffs loud enough for the boy in front of him to hear. How polite. Not even a word of gratitude. However, he does not resist the fond smile gracing upon his lips.  
  
As usual, they clear their food within fifteen minutes and spends the rest napping away. Actually, Junhoe is the one that sleeps and Jungkook is the one watching Junhoe sleeps.  
  
Jungkook combs through Junhoe's soft hair, like passing thread through needle.  
  
Junhoe is snoring lightly with his head on Jungkook's thighs. That instance, Jungkook worries his teeth into his bottom lip, gaze turns full-pledged pity. Something Junhoe does not want to see. Junhoe is tall and lean in built and always spotting that sassy personality, he more often than not gives off a tough demeanour, a threatening vibe. Without the folds between his brows, Junhoe looks unguarded, fragile and scarily adolescent. It makes Jungkook wonder, who has a heart of stone to reduce Junhoe to this state?  
  
Jungkook exhales, between frustration and enervation.  
  
He sets his sight far, settling on a certain grumpy male.  
  
Jungkook and Junhoe are merely best friends that behaved like they are in a relationship. Some knows that their friendship is platonic, some does not. And Yoongi- Jungkook swallows, dryly. Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook's longtime crush, does not.  
  
His shoulders slouch, like a deflated balloon, at the thought of Yoongi thinking that they are otherwise.  
  
"You sucks, you're garbage." Jungkook murmurs, digits playing with strands of charcoal. He does not say, _you sucks, but you're my garbage, my responsibility._

 

 

 

 

 x (I miss you so bad.)

Junhoe plops down on Yoongi's couch the moment he steps into the older male's apartment.

He watches Jungkook slips in a black leather jacket that is hanging by a chair. Junhoe rises a brow and then, he scoffs. What a childish way to ask for attention.

Jungkook sits on the carpeted floor, by the couch. With his long legs pull against his chest, Jungkook looks like he is about to blend into one with the furniture Junhoe is currently lounging on. Yeah, his best mate is nervous alright. Also, if that fiddling of long fingers is not a dead giveaway, Junhoe does not know what is.

Junhoe tugs on the sleeves of his wine knitted sweater over his wrists to the half of his palms. Junhoe knows that he is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he can tell that Jungkook likes the older barista. It does not takes a genius to figure that out. Junhoe has seen the way Jungkook's dark eyes sparkles.

"What do you kids want to drink?" Yoongi calls out from the kitchen.

"Hot choco- Ouch!" Junhoe screams, rubbing over the glowing red handprint that is surely forming underneath the fabric of his top. Jungkook shoots him a quell look to silence him, as if saying, _don't ruin this for me._ So, Junhoe sighs and nods reluctantly.

Junhoe fold his arms over his chest, looking very much like a petulant child when their parents order them to go to their room.

"Anything is fine by us, hyung!" Jungkook's voice is suddenly brighter, more uplifting.

Junhoe mouths _eww_ at Jungkook and proceeds to show the other boy the most disgusted expression he can muster.

Burying himself in the thick blanket that Yoongi kindly places on the couch, Junhoe questions what exactly did the world went through when he allowed himself to be dragged over. Junhoe curls the rest of his fingers into the pretty maroon wool.

Winter. Junhoe absolutely abominates this particular season. He has to look like a giant walking burrito 24/7 and this arse of a season did not even ask for him permission. It infuriates him to no end. Layers upon layers of clothing means Junhoe has to compromise his fashion sense to keep himself warm, so that he can somehow survive through this crap. Which also means, Junhoe has lost the ability to kick people. Entirely.

 _Argh,_ Junhoe groans internally.

"Yoongi hyung! I'm cold!" Whines Jungkook.

The aforementioned male emerges from the kitchen a while after Jungkook freaking whine. He set two mugs of what it seems like warm milk on the coffee table.

Junhoe honestly does not know what is _so cute_ about Jungkook being like this. He pulls a face.

"Do I look like I can actually control the damn weather, brat?" Yoongi says, as he pushes a mug towards Junhoe and hands the other one to Jungkook.

At that, Junhoe doubles over.

Min Yoongi, otherwise known as Seoul's National Asshole that came from Daegu, is the sassiest person Junhoe knows other than himself. And because Yoongi is the second person next to him that can make Jungkook shut up, Junhoe is dead fond of the older boy.

"Unless you want me to fight Mother Nature herself -which I won't- there is literally nothing I can do."

Junhoe wipes a tear. Yeah, he likes Yoongi. Very much so.

"The least you can do, hyung, is to keep me warm." Jungkook counters. Sometimes, Junhoe hates Jungkook and his smart mouth more than winter itself. He makes grabby hands at the mint-haired boy, like a baby would. "Yoongi hyung, c'mereeeee! Hyuuung!"

 _Jesus Christ,_ Junhoe cover his ears to block Jeon Jungkook out. Adorable? He finds it revolting, if anything.

There is a moment of silence, before Yoongi, the self-proclaimed _genius_ , says, "Why are you wearing my jacket?"

Jungkook grins, "I forgot to bring mine."

Junhoe sneaks an arm out of the blanket, reaching for the steaming mug of warm liquid. He drinks it in one go. Warm milk tends to leave a bad aftertaste in his mouth, but Junhoe reckons, the warmth spreading like wildfire throughout his body outweighs it. As time passes, Junhoe feels more and more like a third wheel. He is aware that he is probably intruding the intimate bond that both of his friends are sharing. He should not be here. Of all places, he should not be here.

So, Junhoe stretches his arms high and back straight, letting the cotton-stuffed fabric falls to his hips and allowing the cold to have it's way with him.

"I'm going home." Junhoe says, faking tiredness, as he steps into his shoes and throws a sandy-brown trench coat over his shoulders. He speaks again, preliminary to Jungkook's panicky gaze on the back of his head, "I'll give you a call when I'm home, Jungkookie. Have fun with Yoongi hyung!"

Junhoe catches Yoongi's apologetic look as he shuts the door. Why is Yoongi sorry, Junhoe has no idea.

When he is out of the building, the freezing temperature greets him like an old pal.

The walk home is weirdly therapeutic. It has been a long long time since Junhoe travels anywhere without the company of his childhood buddy and it makes him wonder, idly, why Jungkook refuses to let him to be out of his line of vision.

It almost feels congenial to be alone.

Junhoe dawdles deeper into the park. It is a short-cut. He hide his hands in the coat's pockets whilst digging his nose into his black scarf, when a gush of merciless wind crashes by. Junhoe continues to move forward. He likes the sound his combat boots make when they claps against the stone path, which is partially covered in snow.

Junhoe's cheeks are in a dark shade of apples by the time he reaches the supermarket. He has settle on this plan of action, because since he is already out, he might as well do some grocery shopping while he is at it. He knows it will be difficult for him to go anywhere that is out of his house, given the fact that winter is a shitty season and Junhoe does not have a body made for cold.

He pushes a trolley to lighten his load. A basket will be more apt, after all, the shopping list in his head is relatively short. Living by himself surely have all kind of perks. At the present time, he does not want to hold onto anything else.

The items Junhoe grab are usually unvaried, like milk, cornflakes, bananas, orange juice and such. Occasionally, he will add some snacks into the list. He is more of a health freak than a blithe person that don't give two shits to what they are putting into their mouth when it comes to their diet, however once in a blue moon, he will need a treat to satisfy his sweet tooth. Therefore, when Junhoe prods through a flash of blurred motions, he realises what he has dropped into his trolley. He is eerily phlegmatic about it.

There is an amalgamation of food that he purchased on biweekly basis, a chocolate coated waffle biscuit and- a bag of barbecue flavoured chips. Junhoe stares at it briefly. He then understands Jungkook's intention. He always haunt Junhoe like a ghost, because he wants to keep the other boy occupied.

Junhoe smiles, but he is not happy.

His fingers clip at the edge of the foil bag. This is Jiwon's favourite chips. He picks it up and puts it back on shelf.

The sky is in a pretty lilac and periwinkle colour as Junhoe exits the market with two plastic bags in one hand and a paper bag cradles in another.

The heat traps in his scarf thaws his nose, slightly.

Junhoe strolls along the nearly empty street. The celestial sphere turns pinker, casting a balmy glow on the curves of his cheeks. He fumbles for his phone while juggling with the weight that anchors him. Junhoe curses under his breath. When he finds it, he rises it high to snap a picture and sends it to Jiwon, with a caption of, "Is the sky pretty there?"

Then, he stuffs it into his back pocket.

There is this part of Junhoe that outright refuses to let go of things. Even things that causes him pain, not once, not ever will he loosen his grip. Not until Jiwon tell him that the love between them is fading, not until Jiwon tell him that he does not harbour any whit of feelings for Junhoe anymore, will he pry his fingers, aversely, off this relationship.

Junhoe stands still at red light.

When he was younger, perhaps at the age of four if his memories does not neglect him, he was given a stalk of stargazer lily by his father that was moving to another part of the town, to earn more money, so that they can make ends meet.

It was beautiful, it made preschooler June wonder, do all pretty things make people cry? He waved his father goodbye, with the biggest motion his tiny arm could manage and there are snots running down the ridge of his philtum.

The rest of the day flew by with the flower tightly clutched in his stubby hand. Because putting it in a vase meant Junhoe would have to part with it and back then, it was the only thing his father had left him with. It meant the world to him.

It wilted, ultimately. The once pinkish-white petals turned brown around the edges. The once green stem turned umber too.

Junhoe ambles across the road when the traffic light changes green.

He mentally reprimands himself for not wearing a pair of mittens. He is stupid, he get that. Howbeit, in the very least, he is not the stupidest person in Seoul. In the world, even. That will be Jungkook. The person that somehow 'forgot' to bring his coat in the middle of winter.

Junhoe snickers and muses on Jungkook's abysmally planned gambit in bringing Yoongi's leather jacket home.

Junhoe enters into his apartment at a quarter before nine and it is only to be expected.

He sends Jungkook a quick message as he reclines by the balcony.

If Junhoe knows the address, he will send Jiwon a bouquet of stargazer lilies and baby breaths.

That night, as Junhoe agressively wipe on his eyes, he asks Jiwon for his address.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I survived!!!
> 
> Sooooo, how was it? /beams/ 
> 
> Jiwon will be in the next chapter okay, fret not.
> 
> Kudos and comments, as well as criticisms, are all deeply appreciated! x.


End file.
